


(Make Out of Words) A Cage

by newlifemoriarty



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (Mostly Azure Moon but Claude joined them after Derdriu), Alternate Title: A Thousand Years of Will-They Won't-They?, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Byleth has a giant crush on Seteth, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical racism (unfortunately), M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reincarnation, Seteth has a giant crush on Byleth but doesn't know it, Seteth is a DAD, dealing with immortality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newlifemoriarty/pseuds/newlifemoriarty
Summary: Byleth, Seteth and Flayn leave the monastery after the last of Byleth's students finally pass, time having taken its toll. Byleth wanders the world, Seteth and Flayn stay awake. Centuries pass, and they find themselves amongst humanity once more.Their lives change completely when they find themselves face to face with their students and friends, reborn into a completely changed world.What strange twists of fate have brought together again the old heroes of Fodlan? What sleeping things are awakening once more?
Relationships: Black Eagles Students & My Unit | Byleth, Blue Lions Students & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Flayn & Seteth (Fire Emblem), Golden Deer Students & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Sothis, My Unit | Byleth/Seteth, Seteth & Sothis
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	1. prologue: counted days

Seteth wasnt sure when exactly he started counting the days between funerals. Perhaps it was after they buried Alois - the first of them to pass after the war. They hadn’t had time, during the war, to give the dead proper rites. Byleth had kept a list of names, of those who had died fighting by his side and those he had been with no choice left but to kill. Ferdinand von Aegir, Ignatz Victor, Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Hubert von Vestra, Edlegard von Hresvelg. There was a memorial set up in the gardens of the monastery. Death during war time had been all around them, but somehow it felt heavier in peace time. Alois had been an old and happy man, who had died peacefully in his sleep. But something sharp constricted in Seteth’s throat as they lowered his casket into the ground in a grave to the right of Jeralt’s own, his right hand man even in death.

  
It had taken Seteth two more funerals - 388 days between Alois and Shamir, killed in a tragic hunting accident; 73 days to Gilbert, who passed peacefully at his daughter’s side - before he had realised what it was that gnawed at the back of his mind. Time was passing. The war had claimed many lives, but Seteth had been able to fight to end the war. He would never been able to stop time’s passing. Really, he and Flayn should have left long before even Alois passed. Done as they usually did, slipped away into the shadows to rest for a few centuries, then walk amongst the people again when they felt they were needed. But the world was shifting under his feet as Claude, Dimitri and Byleth built a future none of them could have predicted or created on their own. And Seteth felt obligated to stand by Byleth’s side, at least for a little longer.

  
8,067 days after Gilbert, they buried Raphael. His sister sung beautifully as they lower his casket. Byleth spent the next month hunting down the mercenaries who had got in the lucky shot against the giant brawler. Seteth had handled the monastery, and waited impatiently for the Archbishop to return safe.

  
2,221 days later Caspar and Linhardt were buried side by side - a rockslide had taken out their entire caravan. Seteth tried not to think about the state their bodies were in when they were found.

  
Only 32 days later Lorenz was assassinated and Claude had personally lead the investigation that took down the culprit within a week, stopping a potential rebellion before it even had a chance to begin.

  
And so it continued for years. Sometimes the days flowed by smoothly and Seteth forgot he was even counting until he was once more dressed in black with a number stuck in his head and a tight pain in his chest. Sometimes the numbers were painfully small.

  
Byleth had outright wept at Dimitri’s funeral (4,703 days after Hilda). He had cried at others, but as Fodlan mourned it’s king, Byleth had wrapped himself tight into Claude’s arms and sobbed. Claude had been silent through the entirety of the funeral, empty and exhausted from grief. He joined his husband 82 days later.

***

By the time Seteth stood at Byleth’s side at Lysithea’s funeral, he was shocked to realise he had lost count some time after 18,000 days. He and Byleth had worked hard to get Lysithea so much time - Seteth giving some of his own blood to try and counteract the terrible deeds done to her by Those Who Slither in the Dark. The prodigy had worked hard to the very last, and had died with a smile on her face, holding Byleth’s hand.

  
Seteth, Byleth and Flayn had been the last ones left standing at the graveside after all the other attendees had left the funeral. Flayn gave her father’s hand a small squeeze, pulling him out of his daze.

  
“I’m going to go to get some food,” she said quietly, and Seteth nodded. He felt numb and very much the opposite of hungry so he let her go on her own. Byleth gave her forehead a gentle kiss as she said goodbye to him, before he turned to look at the grave once more.

  
“That’s the last of them,” he said, his voice strained. Seteth glanced over at him to see the silent tears that were running down his cheeks.

  
“The last of-? oh.” It had taken a moment for him to realise what he meant. The last of his students and allies - other than Flayn and himself.

  
“She was certain she’d be the first. Always telling me she didn’t have time for failure.” Byleth’s voice was fond and sad. Seteth stepped closer to his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Time is not always a gift, you and I know that better than others,” he said quietly. Byleth lowered his gaze to the ground, before turning and pressing himself into Seteth’s chest, shoulders shaking with barely contained sobs. Seteth wrapped his arms around him and held tight, silent. There weren’t words for what he was going through. To watch your friends grow old and die, while you remained untouched by time’s cruel hands, it was a torture without compare.

***

“Where are you going to go?”

  
Byleth paused at the forest’s edge, before turning back to face Seteth. 

  
It was the middle of the night, a few weeks after Lysithea’s funeral. Seteth had been restless, fishing long into the night to keep dark thoughts away. He had almost sobbed as he saw Byleth slipping out a back gate of the monastery, a pack slung over the back of his horse. He had been waiting for the day, of course. Byleth had nothing left tying him to Garrag Mach or even Fodlan. Seteth had known that one day Byleth would leave, just as he and Flayn were planning to in a few weeks. But he had hope that after all this time, Byleth would have at least said goodbye - even just to Flayn if not himself. And so he had dropped his fishing rod on the shore and followed after Byleth, rushing to catch up. He had made it within earshot just before Byleth had disappeared into the Sealed Forest.

  
“I don’t know,” Byleth said, stone faced as Seteth approached him.

  
“I’m not trying to stop you,” Seteth said, recognising the determination in Byleth’s stance. The softening of Byleth’s shoulders in response would have been imperceptible to most, but Seteth had come to learn the small tells of Byleth’s emotions.

  
“If you’re not trying to stop me, what are you doing here?” He asked, one hand absentmindedly scratching at his horse’s neck.

  
“I just-” Seteth paused, finding his throat surprisingly tight. “I knew you’d be leaving soon, I had just hoped that… that you would say goodbye first.” Byleth pressed his lips into a tight line at that, unable to meet Seteth’s gaze.

  
“I left a letter for you and Flayn,” he said to the ground.

  
“I see.”

  
“I was worried you’d try and get me to stay,” Byleth explained and Seteth nodded stiffly.

  
“I understand,” was all he could think to say.

  
“I’m sorry.” Byleth’s voice wavered slightly as he finally looked back up at Seteth.

  
“Don’t be.” Seteth stepped forward on instinct, his hand resting on Byleth’s shoulder. “Just let me get Flayn so you can say goodbye.” He gave Byleth’s shoulder a comforting squeeze as the other man nodded. Seteth turned and hurried back to the monastery to wake Flayn.

***

Flayn literally ran into Byleth’s arms when they came into sight of the forest. Byleth scooped her up easily, pulling her in tight and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  
“I am going to miss you dearly, Byleth!” she said as he put her back down on the ground. Seteth had caught up to them at that point. There were tears in the corners of Flayn’s eyes but a wide smile across her face.

  
“I know, I shall miss you too,” Byleth said, wiping away an escaped tear with his thumb.

  
“We will see each other again,” Seteth said with sudden certainty. Byleth looked up at him over Flayn’s petite form. There was something unreadable in his expression, though Seteth certainly couldn’t claim to be able to read most of Byleth’s expressions. There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips as he reached one hand out to Seteth, the other still holding Flayn close to his side. Seteth didn’t hesitate, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around his daughter and his dear friend. They stood like that for a few moments, before Byleth finally pulled back slightly. Flayn was still tucked tight against his chest but he now had Seteth at arms length, hand firm on his shoulder. They looked at each other silently, Seteth completely unable to conjure the words to express himself. He opened his mouth, to try and force himself to say something, but then Byleth’s grip shifted and he lifted his hand from Seteth’s shoulder to gently rest against his cheek. Seteth subconsciously leaned into the touch. There was a long pause as Byleth seemed to be considering something, his eyes ever so slightly squinted and his head tilted faintly to the side. Seteth watched as unreadable emotions flicked in his eyes, before he finally seemed to settle on a decision.

  
“Thank you, my friend,” Byleth said quietly. Seteth could do little more than nod, tears suddenly welling up in his eyes and constricting his throat. Byleth’s hand fell away from his face as his other arm finally released Flayn. She was crying properly now, but her smile stayed perfectly in place. Seteth wrapped one arm around her as Byleth stepped away fully and collected his horse’s reins. He mounted up in one smooth motion and nudged his horse to walk on. He gave one last look over his shoulder, and raised his hand in a silent wave. Seteth returned the gesture. As Byleth’s form disappeared into the darkness of the forest, the air around Seteth and Flayn grew quiet and cold. Flayn sniffed quietly and Seteth clutched at her instinctively. He then gave her shoulder a small, comforting squeeze.

  
“Come now,” he said, surprised by how strained his voice sounded. He cleared his throat before he continued. “We should make our own preparations.”

  
“Of course,” Flayn said, her own voice small. “We will see him again, won’t we?” Seteth gave a firm nod.

  
“I am certain we will.”

***

They too, left the monastery in the quiet of the night, just a few days later. They travelled Fodlan briefly, though Seteth was eager to find a place to settle down and rest, away from the eyes of the world. They had stayed so much longer than usual this time, he had forgotten the quiet joy of distant mountain ranges, devoid of people. He and Flayn eventually wandered through the mountains just north of Lake Teautates. They briefly visited Indech, though more for Flayn’s sake than Seteth’s. He had long come to accept his brothers’ choices to live separate from the world, consumed by their draconic blood. They informed him of Serios’ passing, though he seemed indifferent to it. Seteth found himself surprised by how unmoved he was by the whole affair. Rhea had never fully recovered from the injuries she sustained protecting Byleth and his students from the terrible weapons of the Agarthans. She survived a few more years, long enough to see the peace treaty between Fodlan and Almyra signed and to see Byleth step down from his assumed role of Archbishop, before she finally passed. Seteth had been sad at her loss, but he had known that her time had long passed. The Seiros he had known, his sister, had died a long time ago. Her obsession with reviving their mother, the experiments on babies, her rewriting of history that only ended up causing greater suffering - it had all lessened his love for her.

  
Seteth had spent a long time talking with Byleth, who had told him stories of his dear friendship with Sothis, how she had chided him frequently, but always guided him well. She never fully recovered her memories before she gave herself to him. Seteth missed her dearly, as he could tell Byleth did too. They had found comfort in each other, sharing stories of the different sides of Sothis that they had known. The more Seteth spoke with Byleth, the more distant he grew from Rhea. 

  
After their visit with Indech, Seteth and Flayn stayed in the mountains for a few years, setting up a small cabin in a hidden cove, far off the paths travellers might take. Just a short hike from their door, the mountains opened up to a beautiful view of the Rhodos Coast. It felt like a good place to stay, at least for a while. Seteth knew things would be different this time. He had no intention to ask Flayn to join him in a long slumber. Not after last time. Instead, they spent time together. They would fish - Seteth teaching Flayn to bait the hooks properly, like Leonie had taught him. They had gathered a great many books in their travels, and they would read them together, sharing their thoughts on the stories. Flayn particularly loved the stories that spoke of her friends, retellings of their grand battles and adventures. She found it fascinating to see how history changed the stories, as time passed and the truth faded from memory. Seteth continued writing, keeping his own memories hidden in fables - wrapped in metaphor and allegory. It was easier to write of eagles and deer and lions, lazy foxes and clever squirrels, than of young men and women he had grown to love like children.

  
Every few decades they would drift into nearby towns and villages, picking up new books and supplies, keeping a vague eye on the changes of the world. Occasional travellers would stumble across their cabin, but Seteth simply treated them with whatever kindness they needed, and sent them on their way. A little magic from Flayn left their memories vague enough that they wouldn’t find the path again easily. It was a good balance. They were distant enough from people that Seteth felt safe, felt that Flayn was safe. But it still gave Flayn a chance to see people, see the world and the way it grew and changed. She seemed happy, and that alone was enough for Seteth to be happy.  
He knew that one day they would likely walk amongst the people again. Danger never really went away, and he knew they would be compelled to help should darkness fall over Fodlan once more. And so they waited, enjoying their time together. They waited, unsure exactly what they were waiting for. Decades passed into centuries. Though they had each other, Seteth knew that Flayn felt the same touch of loneliness he did. Somewhere, out there in the vast world, they had one dear friend left. Seteth was still sure they would see each other again. He had not realised how keenly he would miss Byleth.

  
He counted 120,000 days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello I am here to be emotional about Seteth being a dad and also being hopelessly in love with Byleth but having no idea.
> 
> Reincarnation things will come up in future chapters - doing some scene setting first. Hope you enjoy some oblivious pining hehe


	2. ghosts in a new world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking again amongst the world, Byleth and Seteth find themselves face to face with their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for the end of the chapter: discussions of mental health and mental health care, specifically to do with hospitals. It is relatively vague, but a character's hospital record is discussed, so be prepared if this may be uncomfortable for you.

The three hundred years Byleth had been away would eventually come to feel small and insignificant. They had always known they would see each other again. Byleth had wandered the world - walked east until he stood on the western shore of Fodlan once more. Seteth and Flayn had waited, and when they had been reunited, their lives fell together simply. Their lives were easier together, better together. Time passed - uncounted - until it was time to walk together in the world once more.

  
It was a changed world that greeted them, and none of them could exactly say what made them decide it was time once more. Seteth, frankly, struggled to track the exact events that left him standing at the front of a lecture hall at Garreg Mach University, chatting with Byleth while their students slowly filed in. Rhea had always used to talk about the “flow of time” and how it moved them all. Seteth had always understood the sentiment, as much as he resented it. The flow of time had brought him and his family awful suffering, but as he watched Byleth step up to the lecturn - sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the intricate tattoos up his forearm, and the roots of his hair fading from deep teal back to mint green, reminding him they needed to get more dye for him soon - that pain seemed very far away. The thing with living the length of many lifetimes, Seteth found, was you ended up living many lives.

***

  
“Despite the drastic changes to it’s structure and teachings, The Church of Seiros remains the major faith across Fodlan and latest statistics suggest that it’s popularity is continuing to increase,” Seteth explained, clicking to the next slide that showed the relevant statistics. Byleth leaned casually against the lecturn, looking out over the crowd of students.

  
“We won’t be diving into an exploration of why this is the case in this unit, but I want you all to think about an important question,” Byleth said. Seteth took his cue and clicked on to the next slide, a plain background with a single question in bold text.

  
“Should the modern Church of Seiros be classified as the same religion as the Pre-Unification Church of Seiros?” Byleth read off the screen. The dim lights in the lecture hall meant it was difficult to see the students’ faces, but the echoed tapping of keys and hushed whispers told Seteth that there were a fair few students already engaging with the question. He watched Byleth purposefully pause and look pointedly across the room. Once the immediate reaction settled, he wandered away from the lecturn and back over to the desk to stand next to Seteth.

  
“These are the kinds of questions we will be exploring in this unit. And for most of these questions, there is no one right answer,” Byleth said.

  
“We will be discussing your thoughts on this question in your tutorials this week,” Seteth added. “We look forward to seeing you all in class.”

  
Seteth clicked to the last slide, which contained his and Byleth’s contact details, as Byleth tapped a button on the control board at the desk to bring the lights back up in the lecture hall. Immediately the students began gathering their things and making their way out, the room filled with sound. Over the last few years of the two of them taking this class, the number of students enrolling had grown drastically. Though technically part of the Religious Studies major, RES103 - The History of the Church of Seiros was also a popular elective, especially for History students. It left Seteth and Byleth with a large and diverse group of students. At times Seteth found it overwhelming, but Byleth seemed to revel in it. Seteth was glad they had decided to reenter the world properly, at least for a while. Watching Byleth teach was an absolute joy, and Seteth surprised himself with how much he enjoyed it too. In his days at Garreg Mach, he had taken the occasional seminar and covered for the Professors in emergencies, but he had mostly done administration work rather than teaching. But when he and Byleth had accepted teaching roles at the new Garreg Mach University Seteth had found himself quite taken with his new position.

***

  
As was usual for after one of their lectures, a few eager students paused by the front desk on their way out of the lecture hall to introduce themselves to their teachers or ask questions. Most were just wanting to make themselves known to the professors, but Seteth and Byleth always happily indulged them in whatever small talk they wanted to make. Neither were ever going to discourage students from reaching out, no matter how trivial the matter.

  
The room had quietened significantly, most of the students having already left. Byleth was in the process of shutting down the computer, while Seteth sorted through and packed up their paperwork. They both had a preference for hand written notes, and so there was always a decent amount of paper to re-sort and stack after a lecture. Seteth had his back to the rest of the lecture hall, but heard the tell tale footsteps of an approaching student.

  
“Excuse me, professors?” The questioning voice was quiet, deep, and painfully distinct. It took centuries worth of self control for Seteth not to immediately drop the binder he had just picked up off the desk. Byleth looked up from the computer sharply, expression blank as usual. Seteth turned to face the student, forcing a small smile.

  
If there had been any doubt in Seteth’s mind who had approached them, it was instantly lost when he saw the young man standing before them. He was tall and lithe, his blonde fringe brushed haphazardly out of his eyes, and a gentle, slightly nervous smile on his face. Dimitri looked almost exactly as he had during his days at the Officer’s Academy.

  
“What can we do for you?” Byleth asked, tone perfectly neutral. Too neutral, Seteth thought.

  
“I - uh - I know that attending classes is important to excel, especially in a unit like this. I was just wondering what your preferred procedure is for if someone needed to miss classes due to uh… due to medical reasons?” Seteth had never thought of Dimitri as shy, but that was the only way to describe the way the young man in front of them was acting. He was very glad Byleth had taken the lead on this one, Seteth’s head was reeling. Byleth offered Dimitri - or whoever it was - a kind smile.

  
“Just send us an email and we can send you through the tutorial content. You can also talk to disability services to set up a plan if you need extra support,” he explained. If it hadn’t been for the fact Seteth had been trying to decipher Byleth’s emotions for literal centuries, he would have no idea just how rattled the other man was. 

  
“Thank you,” Dimitri said. “I… it’s not something that’s affected me for some time, but… well I always prefer to be prepared should I have another… episode.” He gave a vague gesture with his hands as he struggled to find the right words. Byleth nodded.

  
“Well, keep us updated, and just let us know if there's anything we can do to help support you,” he said, his voice still forcibly monotone.

  
“Thank you,” Dimitri said once more, before turning to leave. He then caught himself and turned back to face them with an embarrassed smile.

  
“I’m Dimitri, by the way,” he said.

  
“A pleasure to meet you,” Byleth said. All Seteth could do was nod in agreement before Dimitri took his leave.

***

  
Their walk back to Byleth’s office was deathly silent. It was not until they had stepped inside and shut the door that Byleth slumped down in his chair, letting his bag drop heavily to the floor.

  
“Well, shit.”

  
Seteth had very little to add to that statement. Numbly, he lowered himself down into the chair in front of Byleth’s desk. 

  
“That was…” he muttered, then stopped, because what else was there to say? Seteth had always taken the approach of “anything is possible” when it came to different beliefs. He was a saint and a member of an ancient, immortal race — he kind of had to believe in a lot of strange things. He had heard of reincarnation, of course, but had never found any proof of it. Until now. He shook his head helplessly. Byleth pursed his lips slightly, and then he was tapping away at his computer. Seteth watched, curious, as the printer beeped and spat out a few pages. Byleth grabbed them and began scanning his gaze over them. When he paused to grab a highlighter, Seteth saw what the pages were. Class lists. Byleth ran the highlighter over a few names, before pushing the pages towards Seteth. He glanced over the highlighted names.

  
_Dimitri Alexander_  
 _Linhardt Heron_  
 _Mercedes Bishop_  
 _Marianne Edmond_

  
Seteth took in a slow breath. He didnt know what to do with the information. The names were ever so slightly different, the flow of time reshaping bloodlines and family names, but he felt certain that these were all students Byleth had once taught at the Officers Academy. Still numb and overwhelmed, Seteth pulled out his phone and made a call.

  
“Hello Father!” Flayn’s bright voice answered after the first ring. “What’s up?”

  
“Would you like a new research project?” He asked. Byleth glanced over curiously.

“Of course!” Flayn chimed. Seteth smiled just a touch.

  
“I want you to find out everything you can about reincarnation.”

***

  
As it turned out, there was a lot of information on reincarnation. Almost all of it was anecdotal evidence. The most scientific thing Flayn could find was a study done 30 years ago looking for similarities between a group of people who all claimed to be reincarnations of the Saints of the Seirosian faith. The sample size was pathetic for a scientific study, but the fact that they managed to find 60 people who all claimed to be Saints was honestly quite impressive.  
Seteth, Byleth and Flayn were all sitting in their living room, pooling over print outs and sending links back and forth, trying to make sense of the tangle of information they dragged up. Seteth was just about ready to throw in the towel for the night when Flayn suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. He looked over to where she was sitting, cross legged on the floor with her laptop in her lap. Seteth opened his mouth to question what she found so amusing, but Byleth had already leaned over to look at the screen. There was a moment of quiet as Flayn tried desperately to stifle her giggles as Byleth read over whatever she had found. He blinked heavily twice, before his shoulders began to shake with silent laughter. That certainly got Seteth’s attention. Byleth, still laughing, passed the laptop over to Seteth.  


_“I Think My Professor Might Be Immortal (and Also Maybe A Saint?)”_ the forum post was titled. There were two pictures at the top of the post. One was a scan of a familiar piece of artwork. It was only a small portion of the full piece, the edges blackened and the paper yellowed with age, but it was distinctly Bernadetta’s work from the Saint Indech fables. It still slightly unsettled and greatly amused Seteth to see a rendering of his own face staring back at him from the page. The second picture was an awkwardly framed photograph of himself from a few years ago, standing at the front of a lecture hall, gesturing up at the slideshow behind him. Seteth realised that the photo must have been taken by one of the students, the awkward framing due to the student trying to hide the fact that they were taking a photo of their professor. Seteth pressed his lips together, concerned, as he read through the text below the photos.

>   
>  _The only remaining confirmed imagery of Saint Cichol (left), and my religious studies professor (right)._  
>  _Look I’m not saying that Saint Cichol is teaching religious studies at Garreg Mach University, but also I kinda think that Saint Cichol is teaching religious studies at Garreg Mach University._

  
Seteth felt panic grip his chest. 

  
“How are you two finding this amusing?” he said, swinging his gaze to his friend and his daughter. Byleth composed himself instantly, and Flayn tried to stifle her giggles and give Seteth her best serious face.

  
“Father, it’s simply—” she began but Seteth held up a hand to stop her.  
  
“No, Flayn, listen. Do you not realise the danger this puts us - puts you - in? If people discover the truth of our heritage, I..” He was properly panicking now. Centuries of calm must have left him complacent. Where would they go? They would have to try and convince Byleth to come with them, he’d be just as at risk as they were. They should never have accepted the teaching positions.  
  
He was snapped out of his thought spiral by a firm hand on his shoulder. Byleth caught his gaze with calm and clear eyes, and Seteth found himself trapped by them.  
  
“Seteth,” he said firmly. “I understand your concern. But I firmly believe we have nothing to fear. The comments on the post make it clear that it is intended as a joke.” Seteth dragged his eyes away from Byleth to scroll through the comments. Byleth was right, most were continuing the joke, and there were even a few saying that there was no resemblance. His brow furrowed as he read a comment he couldn’t make sense of.   
  
“What does that even mean?” he asked, mostly to himself. Byleth glanced over his shoulder and read the comment. Seteth nearly dropped the laptop in shock when Byleth barked out a loud and genuine laugh.  
  
“Sorry,” Byleth said, catching his breath. “That’s uh… that one got me.” Seteth looked back at him, taking in the image of Byleth’s cheeks flushed with… amusement? embarrassment? Seteth was certain what it was.  
  
“I’m very confused,” he said.  
  
“So am I!” Flayn piped up. Byleth took the laptop out of Seteth’s hands and flashed Flayn a grin.  
  
“This comment says ‘There’s no way that’s Saint Cichol. No one who looks like that has never committed a sin.’” Byleth read dramatically, and then Flayn dissolved into giggles once more.  
  
“I don’t… What am I missing?” Seteth asked, feeling his cheeks warm. Byleth gave him a look, closed the laptop, sighed dramatically, and placed a comforting hand on Seteth’s shoulder.  
  
“They’re saying you’re too hot to be a Saint.”

***

  
Overall, researching reincarnation proved to be a relatively fruitless endeavour. Seteth had his own proof of the fact as he watched Dimitri and Marianne walk into class and take their seats the next day. It was surprisingly difficult not to stare at them in the smaller setting of the tutorial room. With no dimmed house lights to hide the students, and no Byleth to cover when he stumbled, Seteth felt much more intimidated than he expected to. Byleth was two rooms over, taking the second tutorial group (which contained Linhardt and Mercedes). Seteth focused on getting his laptop to connect to the projector, letting the regular sounds of student chatter wash over him.  
  
He felt better once he started teaching. Though each class was different, he had taught this content countless times, and had plenty of experience managing the group discussions. Marianne barely spoke beyond the initial icebreaker exercise (which Seteth hated as much as the students did, but it was required by the university and he knew the benefits outweighed the embarrassment), but Dimitri was eager to engage with the content. It didn’t surprise Seteth, even with his minimal interactions with the students at the academy he had seen the dedication Dimitri had put into his studies back then. Clearly this Dimitri was no different.  
  
It wasn’t often the Seteth had to restrain himself from sharing information about the Church that was technically lost. He and Byleth had worked carefully to make sure they knew exactly what information had survived the passing of time, and the reshaping of the church. But when Dimitri would stumble achingly close to facts the world no longer knew, Seteth found himself almost literally biting his tongue.   
  
The hour long class seemed to roll on forever. When the hour finally ended, Seteth felt more drained than he had in a long time. Thankfully, neither Dimitri nor Marianne approached him on their way out. Though Seteth did see Dimitri chatting with another student in the hallway when he finished packing up. Seteth was hit with that same sense of familiarity as he saw the student sitting next to Dimitri, though it took him a moment to place him as he had his back to him. It wasn’t until he threw his head back into a loud laugh that Seteth was able to put a name to the orange hair and broad shoulders. Ferdinand von Aegir. Seteth had to admit he was a little surprised to see Dimitri and Ferdinand chatting happily like old friends. As far as he could remember, they had not been friends at the Academy. Though Seteth had also been completely blindsided when Byleth had explained that Claude and Dimitri were together, so perhaps he wasn’t the best judge of the students’ relationships.  
  
Seteth felt his chest tighten with anxiety when he passed the young men, worried to engage in casual conversation with Dimitri, without Byleth as a buffer. Luckily he had centuries of practice keeping his composure, as Dimitri stopped him with an “oh, Professor!”. Seteth offered him a calm smile.  
  
“What can I do for you, Dimitri?” he asked.   
  
“This is my friend, Ferdinand,” Dimitri said, gesturing to his fellow student. “Ferdinand, this is my Professor, Seteth Fisher.” (Flayn had been the one to choose their last name - Byleth had offered for them to take Eisner, but something about that had sat wrong with Seteth, and Flayn had been so joyful at the thought of choosing her own name.)  
  
“Oh how wonderful!” Ferdinand said gleefully, getting to his feet and firmly shaking Seteth’s hand. “I read your daughter’s thesis on the influences of the Saint Indech fables on the structure and themes of modern morality plays, it was utterly fascinating! You must be very proud!”  
  
Seteth was indeed very proud, Flayn had worked very hard to achieve her doctorate in Arts, and had apparently enjoyed the process so much she was now well on her way to completing her Medicine degree. He still felt an instinctual flush of fear any time someone referred to Flayn as his daughter, but he was growing more and more used to it. Seteth realised with a start that Ferdinand was probably waiting for him to respond, so he gave a genuine smile and a quick nod. That was clearly enough of a response for Ferdinand, who grinned and immediately launched himself back into the conversation.  
  
“The Saint Indech fables have always been a fascination of mine, so little literature remains of the Saints, it is incredible to view the fables not only as stories of Indech, but as a look at the relationships between the Saint - especially Indech and Cichol.”  
  
“You said it right,” Seteth said, startled and rather touched. Ferdinand looked confused.  
  
“Cichol,” Seteth explained. “Most people pronounce his name wrong, even most scholars pronounce it _Si-choll._ ” Ferdinand’s eyes lit up.  
  
“Oh yes, well most people would assume that, but one needs only a small understanding of the Ancient Fodlandese tongue to realise that it’s only logical to pronounce it _Ki-hole._ ” Ferdinand said proudly. Dimitri let out a bemused laugh.  
  
“Forgive me Professor, I didn’t realise you’d accidentally get him started on ancient linguistics. He’s unbearable enough just talking about the Saints,” Dimitri said, looking torn between amusement and embarrassment.  
  
“Apologies, sir, I just find the topic of the Saints utterly fascinating,” Ferdinand explained and Seteth half expected him to give an apologetic bow.  
  
“You’re not taking my class, though?” Seteth asked. Ferdinand let out a small chuckle in response.  
  
“Oh I wish, but unlike some people,” he shot Dimitri a pointed look, “I simply do not have the time to take on anything other than my Philosophy classes.”  
  
“You both study Philosophy?” The young men both nodded.  
  
“I’m focusing on Philosophy, however, this clever fool,” Ferdinand said, gesturing to Dimitri (who blushed heavily at the comment) “has decided to do a double major of Philosophy and History.” Dimitri shuffled his feet bashfully.   
  
It was very difficult for Seteth to reconcile the shy young man standing before him with the wounded, haunted shell of a man who had nearly wasted away staring at the rubble in the cathedral, talking to no one but the awful shadows of his past. This Dimitri was soft, in a way that the Dimitri Seteth had known before never got to be, not even in the decades after the war when he had got to hold his and his friends’ children on his hip and spend quiet days doing nothing but going on long walks with his husband. War had not touched this Dimitri, had not torn him apart and scarred him. Seteth remembered Byleth sobbing into Claude’s shoulder at Dimitri’s funeral. His world felt unsteady, like how he felt when he stepped foot on land again after a long flight on wyvern-back. He forced himself to be present, shutting out the thoughts of the past and focusing on the world in front of him. He offered Dimitri what he hoped with a bemused smile.  
  
“You sound like my daughter, always looking to learn as much as possible,” he said.  
  
“Yes, sir,” Dimitri said quietly, a small smile on his face.  
  
“Just make sure not to overwork yourself,” Seteth said firmly, remembering the heavy look of exhaustion that Dimitri had carried during his days at the Academy. Byleth had told Seteth stories, years later, of the many times he had found Dimitri or Claude - usually both - asleep in either the monastery or Abyss libraries in the early hours of the morning, having stayed up late researching or planning or something of the sort.  
  
Dimitri nodded, and seemed to be about to say something before Ferdinand touched his arm and pointedly looked at his watch.  
  
“Ah, sorry, Professor Fisher, we have another class to get to,” Dimitri said. Seteth gave him an understanding nod.  
  
“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Ferdinand,” he said. “I will be sure to pass your compliments to Flayn.”  
  
“Oh I would be utterly honoured!” Ferdinand said with a grin before he took Dimitri by the arm and lead him out of the room.  
  
Seteth gave a soft chuckle, a little overwhelmed.  
  
“Was that Ferdinand?” Byleth’s quiet voice startled Seteth out of whatever dark place it threatened to spiral back to. He turned to face the other man.  
  
“So it would seem,” he said. Byleth hummed thoughtfully, and quickly tapped out something on his phone.  
  
“I’m keeping a list,” he said, before Seteth could ask. They naturally fell into step next to each other, making their way back to their offices.  
  
“Dimitri seems… different,” Seteth said quietly as they walked. Byleth blinked at him, his expression as curious as he gets. “Perhaps I am too harsh in my memories of him, but he seems gentler. Softer,” Seteth elaborated. Byleth said nothing in response for a few moments, before tilting his head slightly.  
  
“I wonder if Duscur never happened this time…” he said quietly.

***

It only took a few brief internet searches by Flayn that night to confirm that Duscur, did indeed, happen again.  
  
**_Freak Helicopter Accident Leaves Teenage Son of Prominent Businessman Orphaned and Son of FISC Leader Comatose_**  
  
The headline was stark and sickening at the top of the webpage. The accident had occurred just before they had started to rejoin society, which explained why they hadn’t heard anything about it. They had of course heard of the Fraldarius Information and Security Company, Byleth had been touched to know that some of his students’ legacies had continued on. Seteth glanced over to where Byleth was scowling - actually scowling, with a furrowed brow and down-turned lips - at the article he had brought up on his phone.  
  
“Glenn survived,” he whispered. “The follow up articles stop after Rodrigue stepped down as head of FISC 3 years ago. Glenn was still in a coma then.”  
  
“He still is,” Flayn said quietly from where she was sat at Seteth’s feet, tapping away at her laptop. Seteth glanced down at her screen.  
  
“Is that the hospital’s database?” he asked.  
  
“They named the hospital after me, I should be allowed to access their databases,” Flayn said as way of explaination. Byleth and Flayn had both taken to technology a lot better that Seteth had, and they had tried to explain the complexities of hacking and “hactivism” to him, but he still had no idea how any of it worked. He had no choice but to trust that Flayn knew what she was doing. Byleth had shifted from where he had been leaning on the kitchen bench to lean on the back of the couch, looking over Seteth’s shoulder, down to Flayn.  
  
“He’s at the Saint Cethleann Hospital,” Flayn said, highlighting an entry on her screen. “He’s physically fully recovered, but has been in a coma for the last six years.”  
  
“Do they still have Dimitri’s file?” Byleth asked. Flayn clicked through a few pages before landing on the page with Dimitri’s name printed across the top. He had been in intensive care for a week, before spending the rest of his eight month stay in the psych ward. And even in all that time, no doctor had been able to land on an exact diagnosis. Seteth felt sick reading over the notes of Dimitri’s injuries, various surgeries and the multiple episodes of psychosis, delusion and general mental distress he experienced throughout his stay at the hospital. He had been discharged into the care of his uncle, his only surviving next of kin.  
  
“I sort of wish I hadn’t read that,” Flayn said quietly, her voice tight with sadness. Seteth reached forward and gently closed the laptop for her, as Byleth reach over the couch and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The angle left Byleth’s shoulder right next to Seteth, and he found himself a little surprised by the urge he felt to rest his head against it. He had known, back then, that Dimitri had gone through terrible things during the Tragedy of Duscur, but to see it all laid out in plain, emotionless text, felt heavier than any of the reports he had read back then. He watched Flayn lean into Byleth’s touch before sighing quietly and getting to her feet. She made her way over to the kitchen and put the kettle on, laying out all of their favourite mugs and teas. Byleth was still leaning on the back of the couch. Seteth rested his head back, closed his eyes and lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a warm touch on the back of his head, and opened his eyes to see Byleth looking at him, expression a specific type of unreadable that Seteth had seen before but still didn’t understand. It took Seteth a moment to realise that Byleth was gently stroking the back of his head. He leaning into the touch a little, letting it comfort him. He didn’t even realise that he and Byleth had been staring at each other, silent, until Flayn placed the tea tray down in from of them and sat herself in Seteth’s lap. As she rested her head against his chest, Seteth wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. Byleth finally shifted from his position to sit next to them on the couch, now gently stroking Flayn’s hair. They stayed like that late into the night, letting their tea grow cold and not talking about the horrors they couldn’t seem to leave behind - even in this new world..  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm basing all of the university stuff on how Australian universities work (except I kept the whole calling people "Professor" thing from the game) cause that's all I know, I have no idea how different this is from other parts of the world, so sorry if things are confusing.
> 
> A note regarding the setting: this is obviously a very modern setting, but still with a lot of magic elements (magic, wyverns, Pegasi and things like that are all still a thing, everyone just has smart phones, cars and the internet now haha)
> 
> Also I've made a few changes to the structure of this story, so I've officially labelled the first chapter I posted as the prologue. Nothing else that's been posted has changed, but just thought I'd give you a heads up if you missed that. 
> 
> A huge thanks to my qpp for giving some quality editing/story structure advice. And thank you all for the kudos and comments, it's very encouraging <3

**Author's Note:**

> Exact details on how the war phase went in this world will come out through the story, but basics are this:
> 
> \- Mostly follows Azure Moon  
> \- Because Dimitri and Claude got together during Academy phase, Claude and the remaining Golden Deer join Byleth's army after the Battle at Derdriu.  
> \- Fort Merceus is destroyed as per Verdant Winds  
> \- After the Battle at Enbarr, the gang raid Shamballa as per Verdant Winds (though there's no Nemesis fight after).  
> \- After that, Claude goes back to Almyra, Dimitri becomes King of Fodlan


End file.
